


Even God Worships Someone

by Londerland



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Londerland/pseuds/Londerland
Summary: [AU] In the First timeline, instead of protecting Madoka, Homura wished for the power to save her. Kyubey politely refrains from informing her who exactly will be helping her do this.\(Semi-Compliant to both the Series and Rebellion.) Needless to say, spoilers.





	1. The Beginning of the End(?)

The sky was gray and dreary, Walpurgisnacht's magic distorting the dim light like heat on a summer day. The rain felt cold on Homura's pale, shaking hands. Madoka's blood burned that feeling away as quickly as hellfire. Crimson dotted her collar, where Madoka took her last, shaky breath, and final exhale. A smile lay on the pinkette's serene face, mocking Homura’s failure. She wouldn’t cry, though- no, she had to be strong, for once in her life. Her first and only friend lay as a brightly-colored corpse because of her. Homura's hands clutched at frigid fingers that could never return her embrace.

 _“How unfortunate,”_ Kyubey stated, swishing his tail, his once-cute red eyes akin to that of Satan’s. _“You can save her, you know.”_ The alien's voice was unassuming, without any inflections, but they both knew he was playing her like a perfectly-tuned harp. Homura was Eve, Kyubey the snake, and Madoka was the forbidden fruit.

“I’ll do it!” Homura’s voice broke, emotion shattering it like glass. " _I'll do anything!_ " She whispered. Her heart murmured painfully, forcing her to clutch at her chest.  To her, giving up her soul for Madoka was the least she could do; Madoka was to Homura like the Sun was to life. Madoka was bright, warm, and most importantly: _alive_. But now, she was dead, and it was all Homura's fault. She felt useless, a nutcracker whose jaws were broken, a good-for-nothing.

 _“And what will be your wish, Akemi Homura?”_ he asked, cat-like ears swiveling towards her like satellites. _"Perhaps, you would like to be strong? Brave, even?"_ Kyubey suggested innocently. Homura shivered under the Incubator's cold, unfeeling stare. She knew she was being manipulated by the alien being, she knew that Madoka wouldn’t want her to throw away her life.

The weight upon her thighs, her best friend's corpse reminded her that she no longer cared. Memories crashed in around her ears, filling her lungs, suffocating her in their infallibility and certainty.

_Madoka smiled at her as they walked to the Nurse's Office. Homura was adorably shy, staring at her clasped hands, barely keeping up with Madoka. Pink eyes crinkled at the edges, a bright smile forcing Homura to look up._

_“So, Akemi-san, how do you like Mitakihara?” Madoka chirped. The transfer student started, almost tripping over her feet. Her cheeks flushed, matching the red of Madoka's ribbons._

_“P-please just call me Homura, Kaname-san.”_

_Madoka barely stopped herself from squealing and glomping the girl; she was absolutely_ precious _! She smiled widely, unknowingly drawing Homura's gaze once more._

_“Sure thing, Homura-chan!” the Magical Girl chirped, skipping ahead in the skyway. She stopped, spinning on the ball of her foot as nimble as any ballerina. Homura squeaked in surprise._

_“You know, your name is really cool, Homura-chan,” Madoka leaned forward, thoroughly invading the other girl's personal space. Homura's face began to redden. “You should become as cool as your name!”_

_Madoka leapt back, flushing red. “I didn’t mean to say you’re not cool, you’re totally cool! I mean... ehehe…” Madoka trailed off. “It looks like we're here Homura-chan!” Madoka bowed slightly, hiding her red face behind cotton-candy locks. And then she was gone, skipping away merrily, Homura left frozen in her wake. If Homura had looked closer at Madoka, she would have noticed how flustered the cherry-colored girl had become._

_If she had paid attention to herself, she would have noticed just how red she was._

**_If she had tried harder, maybe Madoka would still be here._ **

**_Useless,_ **

**_Useless,_ **

**_USELESS_ ** **_!_ **

Homura's mind shrilled, pummeling her with cruel abandon. Cheshire grins and bright eyes flashed behind her eyelids.

 _"Ahem,"_ Kyubey interjected telepathically, forcing Homura out of her thoughts.

 _“If you save her, you won’t need to reminisce anymore, Akemi Homura.”_ What the alien was alluding to was nothing short of irresistible to the dark-haired girl. Her already broken soul felt like it was crumbling at her feet. It _hurt_. It hurt more than waking up during surgery, hurt more than any bullying, any Witch- it was unimaginable.

“Kyubey,” Homura coughed, her body feeling the wanton destruction of Walpurgisnacht’s rampage, slowly shutting down, “I want to meet Madoka again, I want to become powerful enough to save Madoka.” Homura's heart began to burn, figuratively and literally beginning to come apart at the seams. Dark blood seeps from between her lips, trailing down her chin. _'Dying before my wish can even be granted would only happen to me,”_ Homura laments.

If Kyubey is surprised by her wish, he doesn’t show it, merely humming to himself, momentarily caught up in how much entropy would be avoided with the powers of a pseudo-Goddess. He was most certainly pleased with this result. Trillions of years would be saved. Yes, this was _very_ good.

 _“It is possible…”_ The Incubator purrs, scratching behind his ear with his hind leg. _“You ask much, but theoretically the returns are enormous!”_ This was the closest thing to emotion Kyubey will ever feel. He almost felt it: success. But that was ridiculous, his job never ended until entropy was overthrown.

 _“Despair is such a powerful emotion, is it not, Akemi Homura?”_ Kyubey swished his ears, golden rings jingling. _"If only you met your potential sooner,"_ Homura had lost the strength to reply to the alien's petty jab. _“But your wish is reasonable, and it shall be granted.”_

Then, Homura's body crumpled into a fetal ball as fiery, electrifying pain coursed through her petite frame, magic burning holes in her uniform, boiling the water around her as her soul became tangible, a Soul Gem glittering violet and gold, her wish granted.

 _“Good luck, Akemi Homura.”_ And with Kyubey's words, the world rewound.

Neither felt the stowaways in Homura's soul.


	2. Hey, Good-For-Nothing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since when has life been predictable? The answer: Never.

Years passed as Homura continuously failed to save Madoka. _'But does time ever really move on?'_ Homura mused. It had all started to blend together into a dreary blur.

Loop after loop, she became more knowledgeable, more powerful, and more detached from the emotions roiling inside her. Ends were the goal and the means were meaningless. As long as Madoka was saved, Homura was happy. Thus, she never was. Not for too long, at least.

Kyubey and the other Magical Girls made sure of that.

The alien rat never left Madoka alone; he was too set on the idea of using her immense power to stop entropy. The thought made Homura’s heart thump harshly in her chest. Oh, how she hated that dirty little-

Thing.

She wished that was her only problem, but she quickly learned that some wishes don’t come true.

Miki Sayaka was the first to actually discriminate against her. Homura didn’t know (or care) if the girl began to remember past loops where Homura slaughtered hundreds upon hundreds of Kyubeys, or merely became upset when Homura shrugged as Mami was eaten by Momoe Nagisa: Charlotte, the Sweets Witch.

Miki Sayaka never failed to give Homura a headache with her constant derision and suspicion.

Couldn’t she see that this was all for Madoka’s own good? Miki Sayaka wasn’t the only one who grated on Homura’s nerves.

Tomoe Mami had to be by far the most bothersome Magical Girl that Homura had ever met.

Mami and Homura's relationship wavered in every loop. Sometimes, rarely, Mami was mentally stable. That was when they got along. _'Tentatively',_ Homura thinks. Mami was the wild card of every timeline, not even Sakura Kyouko could be so unpredictable! Some loops she wound up having to put the older girl down like a rabid dog after she learned the truth of being a Magical Girl, other times, well, someone else did it.

It was much better than the loops where she and Madoka were “involved” with each other. Madoka never did like seeing Mami die, but some things just had to be done. Sakura Kyouko, Mami’s old partner had always hunted her down when that happened, which was more than Homura would like to admit.

But Sakura Kyouko, like Miki Sayaka, was a coward hidden behind a mask. Ophelia- Kyouko hid behind faceless anger and a voracious appetite for food and combat whilst Oktavia- Sayaka hid behind a happy face and classical music. They were so similar it hurt. It hurt to see them die together every single time, never acknowledging their similarities until the bitter end, every single time. Homura especially hated to be the one ushering them to death’s door.

But there were upsides to every story, even Homura's.

Predictably, it was Madoka.

Madoka _always_ stayed loyal in Homura's eyes, but then again, her mind wouldn’t let her see otherwise lest it break.

No matter how scared she was, Madoka wouldn't wish, until her poor, beautiful heart was broken. Unfortunately for the time traveler, Madoka had the most emotion Homura had ever been witness to.

But that was why she loved her, after all.

Homura no longer kept track of the wishes Madoka made to save herself, or anyone else. Especially not the ones she _wasted_ on Homura. None of them worked, and most often Madoka had already made a benign, meaningless wish before Homura could even arrive.

She hated those almost as much as she hated becoming the very thing she was contracted to kill. She could remember several unwelcome examples.

The time traveler slapped her cheeks, adrenaline rushing in at the sharp sting, pushing the memories out of her mind.

“This timeline feels like the one.” Homura told her reflection confidently, as if the mirror would reassure her. Her boldness faded as quickly as it came. She always told herself this when she started a loop.

If only it were true.

“Yeah…” Instead of reassurance, all she saw were the demons swimming in her eyes. Lavender flickered away, taking in the familiar sight of the hospital bathroom's pristine tiled walls and floor. A small bath, toilet, and various toiletries occupied the room. A shadow passed underneath her feet and Homura whirled around, tracking it immediately. There was nothing but the bitter scent of anti-septic and suffocating thoughts.

“Who’s there?” the time traveler barked, a hint of fear tainting her strong voice. Childish giggles rang in her ears, followed by chatters of an alien language. But it all felt horribly familiar, in a fuzzy, amnesic way. A part of her felt like she understood what was being said and honestly, none of it sounded good to her. Dread filled her stomach, weighing her steps down as she cautiously stepped back into her hospital room.

14 teal-eyed, lanky, grinning doll-like figures were on her bed in a variety of poses, ranging from being draped over the headboard to rolling on the floor, cackling. One read her medical report with false interest, while another stared out the window, clearly bored with the dull-looking doll beside her. Her feet scuffed quietly against the smooth tile.

Homura's heart froze when they all focused on her, ceasing their movement entirely. A blonde, baton-wielding doll spoke first.

“Well hello there, Good-for-nothing!” she waved her baton merrily. Her voice almost sounded affectionate- in a mocking way, that is. “We were wondering how long it would take for you to finally see us!”

The doll cackled at Homura’s look of utter confusion, leaping off the bed into a graceful pirouette that sent Homura reeling backwards. She bowed low, tilting her head up as another doll began to speak.

“You couldn’t see your servants for so long, Good-for-nothing! We thought you were ignoring us! I was so sad, you know.” One doll spoke. She had red hair and a small black hat sitting crookedly on her head. Her grin twisted slightly, leering at the Magical Girl. "It turns out you're just useless!"

“Hey, now, Usotsuki, behave.” From underneath a twin-braided winter cap, Homura caught movements of the speaking doll's lips. “Anyway, I believe introductions are in order, yeah?”

All of the dolls smiled widely, teeth glinting as they assembled into formation. They were as tall as Homura herself. Despite their seemingly playful nature, Homura fought to quell her fearful trembling. She could feel the immense magic emanating from them fueled by the negative emotions of humanity.

The blonde doll with the baton marched to the front, hefting her baton above her head.

“Roll-call, everybody!” She chirped happily, her smile stretching upwards. “Ibari!” The dolls' smiles became somewhat strained at the antics of what Homura assumed to be their leader.

“Nekura.” said the doll with the thick gray dress and plaid head-covering.

“Usotsuki~” the doll with the leering grin and innocent face once again smiled at Homura. She avoided eye contact. Their blue eyes were as similar to the sky as hellfire was to a candle.

“Reiketsu.” a doll with white hair, black tights and a pretty face bounced on the balls of her feet as she spoke. Her face remained frozen; it looked incredibly dissatisfied, to Homura. Though with what, she wouldn't ask.

“Wagamama!” Homura almost felt like laughing at the doll's cliché Witch-like appearance. Wagamama took the attention with a dangerously wide smirk and a comically wide stance. The next doll had a thin coat with a long tail, and a small cap upon short red hair. “Warukuchi!” she said, her thin smile hiding the sharp teeth Homura knew lurked underneath.

“Noroma.” a veiled blonde in a simple, black dress hummed calmly, only to have a red-haired doll with a black hair ribbon and short dress interrupt loudly. “Yakimochi!"

“Namake…” trailed off the long-haired blonde, slowly raising a hand to hold in a yawn. Her other hand lazily adjusted the bowler hat on her head.

“Mie!” stared in disgust at Namake before looking down at her nails, feigning disinterest in the whole ordeal. She peeked at Homura several times from beneath her flowery hair-clip, her intimidating beauty-queen air dissipating, much to Homura's amusement.

She was still terrified, though.

A doll spoke shakily, her shivering making her thick, unruly locks bounce minutely. “O-okubyou…” her hands began to fiddle with the tie around her neck.

Several moments passed before a doll wearing a childish dress and a winter hat capped by a red puff seemed to notice that it was her turn. Slowly, she said “Manuke!” Her smile widened as she successfully said her name. Reiketsu scoffed, only to be poked harshly by Ibari's baton with a hiss of “Behave!”

“Higami!” exclaimed a dapper-looking doll, bouncing on her toes. Higami reminded Homura of the American 1930s. She winked at Homura cheekily.

The last doll, the doll with the twin-braided winter cap spoke bluntly and without any preamble. “Ganko.” The elastic of her black gloves snapped loudly when she pulled on them.

Homura cleared her throat. This was all well and good, but she was still terrified and confused. Who were these- these _things?_

“Oh, come on, Good-for-nothing!” Warukuchi groaned. _‘Can she read my thoughts?’_ “Even _you_ should be able to recognize a Witch's familiars!”

_'A Witch's familiars?'_

“Especially since we’re yours!” Wagamama interjected happily. Reiketsu groaned.

_‘No...’_

“You idiot, Wagamama!”

 _“No, no, no, no, no!”_ Homura's mind fumbled; spots of dark and light flashed in her vision. The last thing she saw were the dolls rushing towards her falling body before everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

_Dolls danced in the carnage below her, granting Homura a front-row seat to witness the carnage being brought to bear upon Mitakihara. Ibari lead an army of nutcracker-like soldiers, slaughtering the thousands of soldiers who stood in their path with a graceful dance of death. Reiketsu toyed with a posse of Magical Girls, ruthlessly disabling them. Homura watched as Reiketsu’s silent taunts induced fits of rage in the girls, and watched as she brutally stomped on one’s ribcage, collapsing it as if it were made of popsicle sticks in place of bone. None spoke up after that. Reiketsu took the liberty of beginning their executions._

_“Isn’t it great, good for nothing?” Namake chirped from Homura's shoulder. Homura looked down, noticing helicopters flying at arm height. Two ribbon-like hands tore them from the sky, leaving only burning fuel and choking smoke. The ghostly appendages continued to destroy everything in reach; buildings, people, they all met the same fate: destruction._

_“They took Madoka from us,” Namake pointed to the Magical Girls below, “and now we never have to leave the funeral!”_

_'Whose funeral?” Homura's mind slowly questioned, drowning in despair. Namake's grin was eerily bright as she waved at Ganko as she passed by, Homura's massive stride not bothering the doll in the slightest._

_The sharp smirk was turned on her._

_“Why, all of Humanity, of course!”_

* * *

 

 

“…ive?...Good-fo…” Homura swam in and out of consciousness, snippets of words greeting her with each attempt of waking. She moaned quietly, holding a hand to her temple soothingly, the other hand twisting in the bedsheets to anchor herself.

“Guys!” a voice shouted. Homura's head throbbed painfully. “Oh! Sorry, Good-for-nothing!” the voice stage-whispered. A small hand brushed back her bangs, unmindful of the sweat covering them.

 “I guess they’re busy,” Ibari tried to cheer Homura up. “I’m sure they’ll all come around eventually. I bet they’re just scared of you! Yeah!”

“Ibari,” Homura wheezed, vocal chords rasping like dry reeds.

“Yay, you remembered me!” Ibari's porcelain hand combed through Homura’s thick hair, mussing it playfully.

“Aren't you supposed to hate me?” The hand paused. The bed shook minutely as the doll's small frame practically vibrated. Then, she laughed.

“You were remembering the last time you turned into a Witch, weren’t you?”

Homura's eyes fluttered open in surprise, taking in the sight of her old apartment bedroom, shades drawn closer. The only light came from Ibari's glowing eyes. It glinted off her sharp-like teeth, leaving a smile and two piercing eyes in the middle of the bed. Homura could only nod.

Ibari laughed again.

“Hate you? Of course not, Good-for-nothing! You’re our friend now,” Ibari exclaimed. “Even if you are a human- sorta.” The doll teased. Homura ignored her, not noticing the subtle worry in Ibari's eyes. A sigh, as Homura stayed silent. Homura’s thoughts drifted back to the memory of destroying Mitakihara, an unpleasant feeling settling on her diaphragm.

“How many times have I turned into a Witch?” asked Homura. After she died there was always a null period that she could never recall, where time didn’t reset.

The question seemed to catch the doll off guard, and Homura hissed in pain as Ibari's hand rapidly untangled itself from Homura's hair. “Ah! Sorry, Good-for-nothing, you just surprised me there.” Ibari hummed thoughtfully, seemingly calm now. Homura noticed the pale-blue hand wrapped around the baton was clenched hard enough to compress the metal while the other was trapped between wiry legs.

“This is quite a difficult question to answer.” Ibari informed her quietly, staring at her lap. “I'm not Reiketsu; I feel bad for you, I really do.” Despite the wicked grin on her face, her voice was filled with composed sympathy.

“Why?” Homura hid her fear with a harsh grit in her voice, though a frigid pool of fear ate away at her stomach. What would make beings of despair hesitate? Did she really need to know how many times her death led to the end of the world?

“Reiketsu!” sang Ibari, beckoning the other doll, high-pitched voice strained. Several moments later, the platinum-haired doll stood in the doorway, staring coldly down at Ibari and Homura. Her back-lit silhouette granted her an eerie beauty, like that of a siren, Homura noted. She flipped the light switch, the illusion shattering as the blue tone of her skin and black hue of her dress came into view.

“Will you explain Homura's little _problem_ to her, please?” Ibari stood to leave, but then paused.

“Do it gently, Reiketsu.” She implored, staring the other doll in the eyes. Slowly, but surely, Reiketsu nodded. Ibari sighed in relief, patted the doll's shoulder, and left.

And then there were two. Homura watched in morbid fascination as the death-colored doll hesitantly sat on her bedside. Porcelain hands propped the doll up as she leaned back, staring over her shoulder at Homura.

“Promise to not pass out again?”

Reiketsu’s voice was like an ice sculpture; it was incredibly pretty, but so very cold. Homura felt a chill down her spine and tucked herself further into the blankets around her.

“Yes.” Homura answered, keeping her voice steady and low. Something akin to respect flickered in the cruel eyes of the doll. Homura gave a small smile, merely an upturned corner of her mouth.

“That’s good, because it’s story time.” Reiketsu turned to face Homura. “This is the gentlest way I can tell you.”

“That’s not ominous in the slightest.” Homura drawled. Reiketsu glared. “Sorry, go on.”

“Thanks.” The doll cleared her throat.

“Once upon a time, there was a Good-for-nothing. She was very, very sad; her love had just died,” Homura's face paled at the doll's words. “And thus, she became prey to a stupid little alien!”

“So, she made a wish. All too happy to acquiesce, the little rat translated her magical potential into a wish. But there was a catch. There always is.” Reiketsu sneered, staring at the curtained window.

“In mere seconds, the Good-for-nothing had turned into a Magical Girl. But in her haste to save her love, she failed to realize she wasn’t strong enough for her wish to come true. However, the dirty rat knew, and pulled more and more magic from her soul, until every last drop was siphoned into her wish.” Reiketsu paused, staring at Homura, her piercing gaze betraying nothing.

“Time for a pop-quiz, Sad-sack, what happens when a Magical Girl loses all of her magic? It isn’t good, is it, Good-for-nothing?”

The Magical Girl's eyes narrowed in thought. Her face stayed impassive as the dark fate of Magical Girls reared its ugly head, and she swallowed her fear like a bitter pill. Reiketsu noticed her terror anyway. The Child of the Lost Town softened her voice.

“That's right; they turn into a Witch, as you humans call it.” The doll hummed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Ever since you made that wish, you have no longer been human.” Reiketsu paused, and then rested her hand on one of Homura's knobby knees.

“Interesting, isn’t it, Homulilly?”

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Tell me what you think of this. I'll try to stay in character for Homura, but she'll definitely have to go outside her "box", with the Clara Dolls around now. Third chapter is in the works, so review, kudos, and talk to me about it!


	3. Chaos is Homura's Middle Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding with the Clara Dolls!

As Reiketsu slowly backed out of her Witch's room, she was swarmed by the 13 other Clara dolls. An irritated growl rumbled out of her mouth accidentally scaring Okubyou and Monuke. She shrugged apologetically. In reality she didn’t care, but Ibari's baton hurt like nobody’s business!

The cold-hearted doll sighed at the attention that was being shoved onto her.

“Good-for-nothing requested we give her several moments to compose herself.” Reiketsu recited dully. Yakimochi danced to the front of the crowd, slinging her arm over Reiketsu's slim shoulders.

“Aw, no fair!” she pouted. “Why do you and Ibari get to see Good-for-nothing? The rest of us want a turn, too!” Her cheeks flushed red, a fake smile plastered onto her face.

“Relax, Yakimochi. There’s no need to be jealous.” Warukuchi said. “I’m sure Good-for-nothing is just having some trouble adjusting!”

“No, really?”

“Hey, shut up, Ganko! I was just saying!”

“Is now the time to squabble?” Nekura droned sarcastically. She nodded her head towards Homura’s room. “We should be planning. This is the first time she has acknowledged our existence before giving into despair.”

“What a lovely idea, Nekura!” Ibari chirped, dancing into the center of the room. The dolls breathed a little easier without Nekura staring them all down. “Now that Good-for-nothing knows of us, maybe we can make her less of a Good-for-nothing!”

“A Good-for-something?” asked Noroma.

“Precisely!”

“It sounds good to me, but I'm not the one who we'll need to convince.” Higami stated, cool blue eyes gesturing to where the Witch was. A murmur of assent drifted through the small group.

“She's right, we'll need to convince Good-for-…” the door to Homura's room opened, Namake choking on her words as the subject of their conversation shuffled into view.

The dark-haired girl took stilted, yet sure steps forward, all too aware of the 14 pairs of eyes watching her disheveled form. She cleared her throat, wincing at the raw, rubbing feeling of the lump lodged in it.

“Call me convinced.” She crossed her arms.

Homura pulled on the sleeves of her now-wrinkled uniform, projecting a confidence that was none too familiar to the Clara dolls.

“A plan sounds good, Nekura,” Homura reiterated. “But can it wait until after I’ve- _we_ 've eaten?” Asking to eat with the Clara dolls felt like asking to swim with sharks, honestly. Homura supposed it was because of their grins, if anything. Ibari's wicked grin became a little less wicked.

“Awesome! Where are we going, Good-for-nothing?” Excited whispers zipped around the group.

“The dinner table, obviously.” Homura said. At their confused stares, she clarified, “I don’t think we can find a reservation so quickly…” _'Or afford it…'_

“Do we have enough food?” Namake grumbled, pulling open the refrigerator. A carton of milk and several vegetables met her gaze.

“We don’t have food, period.” She deadpanned.

“Psh, it’s not a problem!”Usotsuki giggled, “We'll just order delivery, duh!”

“Yay!” cheered Manuke.

Homura pulled out her wallet, counting the bills with deft fingers. Now that she was providing for 14 other ‘people’ her funds suddenly seemed inadequate. She frowned.

How much of a burden would the Clara dolls cause? Why were they here, anyway?

_'Don’t ask stupid questions, Homura,'_ she chided herself. _'You know_ exactly _why they’re here.'_ A scowl flickered over Homura's face, unnoticeable to all but the most observant. Ganko, Ibari and Reiketsu all exchanged a glance.

“Don’t worry about the cost, Good-for-nothing, I’m sure we can come up with something.” Said Ganko.

“And if not it's not like normal people can see us, anyway.” Nekura shrugged. “Only those with magical potential can see us, since technically, we're you.”

“What?” Homura blinked. That was news to her. She hadn’t known that. In hindsight, she realized she probably should have. A Witch's familiars are part of her after all.

“Nothing, nothing,” Usotsuki waved the idea away, “don’t worry about it, Good-for-nothing.” She hummed happily, drumming her pointed fingertips on her chin. “Anyway, food, let’s get back on topic.”

Namake finally began to pay attention.

* * *

 

Homura’s trashcan overflowed with boxes of cheap, but filling take-out. Homura burped.

“Oh, excuse me,” she flushed in embarrassment as some of the Clara dolls chuckled.

“Bah, don’t worry about it, Sad-sack, alright?” Ibari called out from her prone position on the floor. “We're all semi-human here!” she snorted obnoxiously, suddenly overcome with giggles. Homura rolled her eyes, taking a cursory glance at the clock. It was nearly midnight.

“So instead of raising military bases to gather supplies I stayed here all day with m-my familiars.” The Witch stumbled over her words. “Being a Witch isn’t as bad as expected.” She thought out loud.

Wagamama yelped, and then groaned as her full stomach shifted. She raised a small hand in protest.

“Don’t go thinking that now, cause the only reason you aren’t a total Good-for-nothing is because you’re mostly human still!” she slurred.

“Yeah!” shouted Mie, her expression warped in annoyance, “Don’t go being a Sad-sack again, alright?” she let out a long-suffering sigh. “It's no fun for anyone.”

“She's right,” said Namake.

Homura grunted at the haphazardly stacked dolls. Her eyelids felt heavy despite the fact that the clock had barely reached midnight; the sands of sleep were suddenly very, very heavy.

“Take a load off, Good-for-nothing, get some rest and all that jazz,” Warukuchi burbled, her own eyelids dropping dangerously low. A soft snore followed her words.

“Well I suppose that's her way of saying goodnight now,” Ganko barked a tired laugh. A quiet chorus of “good night” filled the room for a moment. Homura sighed at the expectant silence.

“Goodnight,” she mumbled before diving underneath one of the throw pillows.

* * *

 

“Holy f-“

“Ganko, watch it!” Ibari interrupted, sailing through the air after a grinning Usotsuki. Homura's mornings usually consisted of a calming shower, a cup of tea, and some self-reflection (self-hatred, according to Ibari.). Now there was just a rush of familiars through her small apartment.

“What are you all doing?” Homura asked, ring digging into her knuckle as she fought to keep her cool. It was only by chance she had awoken in time to stop her projector from being trampled by Manuke, and her tea intact against Usotsuki's best efforts, but her sanity was the real victim.

“Don’t run away from me, scum!” Ganko shrieked, egg dripping from her hair, Warukuchi dashing away from her. A flash of pink colored Homura’s vision.

_Let’s just run away._

_No one will blame you._

_There’s nothing we can do!_

Homura bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood trickling over her taste buds as she fought down the bitter memories of her second loop. The unfairness of it all still managed to stab into her mind at every chance possible. She shook her head of the grim thoughts. Her question was still unanswered, after all.

“Okubyou!” Homura barked.

“Ah!”

“Why are you all being so… active?” It’s not like Homura didn’t expect them to be hyper, but she didn’t think that they would be this… _manic._ Weren’t her familiars supposed to be reflections of herself?

“A-ah…” Okubyou stuttered, wringing her hands. “Osutsuki said… eh… ‘we can’t let Homura scare off Madoka by being spooky and mysterious… again'.”

_'Ow,'_ Homura thought the mysterious and spooky act was alluring and intimidating. If she was entirely honest, her ego was a little bruised by this revelation. _'What do they expect from a_ Witch _though?'_

“You heard the lady, time to be the nice, socially awkward Homura that Madoka knew and loved!” Ibari cheered from the next room. “And to facilitate this _lovely_ transformation, we will all be accompanying you to school!”

_Ring, ring,_ ring, sang the alarm bells in Homura’s head. Something about Ibari's statement seemed off. It may have been the fact that 14 semi-demonic beings were accompanying her to a school with the girl she was in love with or… nope; that was the only issue.

“Ibari, no.” Homura's voice was a blunt as a freight train, and Ibari’s face fell dramatically. “No, a hang-dog look will not convince me.”

“Damn, I guess we'll just need to do this the hard way.” From the bathroom, an egg-free Ganko emerged, twirling her braids mischievously.

“Why do I not like the sound of that?” the conscience of The Witch of the Mortal World peeked out through Homura's eyes. Ganko's stubborn antics were the stuff of legends. Or horror stories, depending on the perspective.

_'Ohhh, H*****, you’re in for a treat.”_ A quiet, sad voice sulked. Homura grimaced at her secondary conscience. From what Reiketsu had explained, Homura and Homulilly were both the same person, and not.

_‘So I now have a split personality?' Homura clarified, rubbing her temples furiously._

_'In layman’s terms, yes.' Reiketsu hummed as she picked holes into Homura's sheets with pointed fingertips._

_'Great- stop doing that- now I’m even more of a'_

_Reiketsu flicked Homura between the eyes, suddenly less than a foot away from her. Her grin had faded into a shallow scowl, and the hand she was supporting herself with dug into Homura’s thigh painfully._

_“I don’t like Homulilly,' the doll grunted, 'but Homura is much better.' Reiketsu sat back on her haunches, wicked grin lying flat and serious. ‘The only difference however, is one of you is a sad-sack, and the other is a fighter.'_

_'Don't get it mixed up.' She said._

“Hellooooo? Earth to Homu-Homu?” a pale blue hand waved in front of Homura’s eyes, much to her displeasure. Wagamama grinned.

“Please, don’t call me that.” That horrible, horrible nickname was something Homura wanted to avoid for all eternity. Having Madoka nickname her Homu-Homu for an entire loop was the most embarrassing time line yet.

“Yeah, only Madoka can call her that, duh.” Usotsuki's face paled minutely at Homura's baleful glare, but her grin remained plastered on her child-like face. “Madoka and Homura sitting in a tree, K-I-S-- Agh!”

“That’s enough of that.” Namake retracted her hand from Usotsuki's now-concaved stomach. She rolled her eyes, snatching lazily at a passing Manuke. She spun the other doll to the right direction, setting her off like a wind-up doll.

“Yay!”

Homura's hand collided with her face with the force of decades of exasperation.

“Anyway, back on topic,” Homura reeled in the conversation, “is it even safe for you all to stalk me during the day?”

“Oh, most certainly not!” Ibari smiled, draping a lanky arm over Homura's slight frame. “But that’s the exciting part, you know?”

“No.”

“Well you’re a sad sack and we’ll just have to teach you.” Ibari said happily. To Homura it sounded like a death sentence. Learning to understand the Clara Dolls? Ridiculous. Homura was much too focused to go insane.

Homura was too busy resisting the antics of the Clara Dolls to remember what they had told her earlier.

_'Only those with Magical Potential can see us.'_ ’ The itch of forgetfulness tortured Homura all throughout her chaotic walk to class.

She was on the verge of remembering when she ran into Madoka. Literally.

Homura grasped at the pinkette’s hand to steady her, while Ibari and Ganko fought valiantly against Homura's deceptively heavy frame.

“Jeez, Good-for-nothing, what do you eat?” Ganko groused. Homura's mouth twitched into a small smirk. She opened her mouth to answer, but Madoka interrupted her with an “Eep!”

_'Only those with magical potential can see us.”_

_'God damnit!'_ Homura's mind shrieked incessantly, battering her stupidity with as much embarrassment as it could muster. Meanwhile, Manuke was suffering under the wrath of Mie’s panicked grasp.

“So…” Ibari mumbled, ruffling her blonde locks, “should we pretend this never happened, or…”

“I vote yes.”

It was too early for Homura to deal with this.

Much too early.

“Wait, freeze!” Ibari hissed, staring Madoka dead in the eyes. The vibrant pink orbs were focused on none other than Homura herself, much to the doll’s relief.  Too bad it was short-lived.

“Akemi-san?” Madoka flushed profusely. A single brow leapt upwards at the sudden redness.

“Yes?” she dared to ask, still on guard while Ibari and Ganko did their best to hide behind her. Homura thanked whatever God there was that the other dolls were off playing in the near-by park.

“W-what are those blue things coming out of your b-back?”

“Huh?”

She turned her head slowly, two ghostly, indigo appendages attached to her back greeting her as they waved lazily.

“Damnit.” Ganko cursed.

* * *

 

**_So Homura’s Witch magic is leaking through her human form. How exciting! How on earth will she explain that to Madoka?_ **

**I hope you all enjoyed, this was an interesting chapter to write. Review, comment, and tell me if I did anything wrong(cause I type this on my phone before editing)**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading my first post on AO3! I am always open to reasonable suggestions and always love being corrected(when you're polite, at least.) I won't update consistently, but I will most certainly update frequently!


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